


ts wanderlust story bits

by cosmogyralspooks



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Human Sides (Sanders Sides), an au, honestky i have no clue wtf im doing, im runnin a blog but i thought it would be worth my time to post the shit i write here so, poggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28083315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmogyralspooks/pseuds/cosmogyralspooks
Summary: ^^^
Kudos: 4





	1. prologue

headlights turn on a small, rainy town in northern california, surrounded by a large pine forest that's foggy and cold. the buildings are mostly small shops, selling crystals, clothing, fishing supplies, cameras, and other necessities and utilities. a bike store on the corner of the block plays host to teens meeting up and hanging around. it's quiet, serene, a picture from a high school romcom movie. adults either work at shops or from home, freelancing. only one road runs through the town, other than private roads going up to small neighborhoods. small families live in big houses, and the real estate is relatively cheap. about 4 miles out, cars zoom past on the highway. it's a hidden gem.

a small group of six stands in a clearing in the woods, a little ways away from the bike shop.

a boy with dark hair mimicking the color of the damp tree bark and similarly dark eyes hidden behind square frames holds an old camera in bandaged, almond-colored hands. he wears a battered band tee and faded jeans. he looks to the sky, looking for birds that soar free above them.

on a log, a tall teen with dirty blond hair tied back and pale blue eyes like rain looks down at his feet, humming a tune that is sad and grim and yet bold and furious. he fiddles with the hood of his dark purple hoodie with bony hands, nails painted black. he shivers in the cold, but keeps his cold to himself.

twins stand next to each other, hair as dark as the night and eyes the color of cold day old coffee. one's hair is cut to their shoulders and tussled beyond compare, and the other's is waist length, tied in a tight ponytail. one wears a short sleeved hoodie over top a shirt emulating an x-ray of their bones and ripped patchy jeans over navy green hiking boots and the other wears a maroon sweatshirt with a golden stripe and the crest of a fictional school over a long-sleeved cream button up and pants rolled up to the knees. one looks at the dirt and the bugs and the moss and the other looks in the woods for escape and for adventure.

a hand rests on a tree and the boy who it belongs too wears a trucker jacket covered in patches for space missions and cryptids and unidentified flying objects. he has a shock of fluffy indigo hair and his scuffed up converse shuffle with anticipation. he looks into the woods with golden eyes hidden behind rounded spectacles. he looks for shadows and glowing eyes, listens for the crack of a tree branch and the rustle of leaves.

folded hands rest in the lap of a teen with curly brown hair hidden under a grey beanie. his faded black jeans, laced up boots, dark grey turtle neck and golden flannel hang loose on his slim figure. his eyes dart around the clearing from face to face and tree to tree, looking for something, anything, that might interest him.

the wind blows through the trees and lifts up pine needles from the darkened dirt and off mossy boulders. small rodents and birds dart through the sky and the bushes, and kids and grown ups alike shiver. a storm is coming, and you pull up to a small motel, the words on the sign you passed still fresh in your mind. welcome to shadow valley.


	2. logan

shaking hands ran through indigo hair and a long, drawn out sigh escaped the boy standing above his worktable. the time on the digital clock read 4:57 am, and he removed his round spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh and a forced down yawn. it wasn’t that late. he could keep working.

the boy sat back down, returning to the miniature orrery that had been hidden in a small chestnut box in the woods and found by an adventurous and eccentric teen. he pulled on gloves and tied back his hair with a bandana. steadied hands pulled out rusted gears and carefully cleaned them off. a wind up mechanism was replaced with a small electric motor. a foggy glass orb was painted a brilliant vermillion.

tired eyes looked upon the disassembled orrery, upon tiny gears and bronze chains, upon glass globes and golden guidelines. it wasn’t that late. he could keep working.


	3. remus

The child scribbled in the margins of their notes, the drone of the teacher’s voice falling on ignorant ears. They grinned to themself, looking down at the grotesque sketch of a zombie. It wasn’t like they were failing in school anyways, they were a quick learner and found it overwhelmingly easy to grasp new material. And no one paid attention either way. They scribbled more. 

Leaves crunched underfoot as the child skipped through the woods, looking around for toadstools and mushrooms and moss. They were alone, wandering through the forest, with no one to be near. When they spotted fungi, they investigated it before deciding on whether or not it was safe to pluck. Reds and browns, oranges and blacks, many different hues and varieties of the same category of flora. They took their findings home, placing them in jars and giving them sufficient supplies for thriving. They looked upon their shelf, lined with jars and bottles of toadstools and mushrooms and moss.

Heavy hands sifted through the pages of a book filled with diagrams of insects. Beetles, butterflies, bees. The only company they had. The teen leaned down, duplicating sketches and labelling each part. They studied. They glowed. Heavy hands copied down terms and diagrams and facts.

A cigarette left the lips of a teenager. A sigh escaped their ribcage, accompanied by foreboding smoke. An invisible barrier stood between them and the other kids. A barrier of fear. A cigarette was brought up to their mouth.

A spark. A boy. A boy approached the teen and held out his hand. He introduced himself. He asked their name. They responded. He smiled and asked them something. He asked to hang out. Their heart responded first, then their mouth. Yes. A spark.

A smile bloomed on a teens face as they stood with their friends, talking and laughing and running through an amusement park. A smile that matched their friends. They laughed, bubbly and soaring and out of control and blissful. Happiness bloomed in a teen’s heart. It wouldn’t be the only time it happened.


	4. cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus self-reflects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk if i need to add any warnings! for now, there's a food mention and that's all i can think of

The wind blew harshly today, ripping leaves from the trees and bringing a biting cold to the faces and hands of anyone who ventured outside. A tall boy in a yellow flannel and a grey beanie was one such unfortunate person. Janus Rowan went to the same coffee shop every day. He never spoke, other than to give his order. He sat in the same window seat every day. Sometimes he would read, sometimes he would simply stare out the window. He was alone. No one could really tell if he was lonely.

Freckled hands cradled a latte in a disposable cup. Janus watched outside, as people walked through the snow and birds hopped around, searching for food. This was probably the most interesting part of his day-- the early morning before school started. When he could truly be alone. Himself. His breath fogged on the glass and for a moment he considered drawing in it. What would he draw anyways?

Janus didn’t know. That was one of the pros, he guessed, of not having a choice in your future. You never had to find yourself out. Or was that a con? He didn’t know that either. There was a lot he didn’t know. What he did know was facts. Items of academic importance. And the fact that if he didn’t know these, his parents would be endlessly dissapointed with him.

It was unimportant, either way. Janus never got to explore himself, or his interests. He wouldn’t even know what he wanted to be. For now, he just wanted to sit at the glass and watch. Watch a world that he would never truly be a part of.


	5. Stagelights

At 10 AM, a phone rung with the alarm labeled 'First Showing.' At 10:03, Virgil Elder stood up and hurriedly got dressed in a black tee shirt and basketball shorts. At 10:07, he ate a brief breakfast. And at 10:15, he was out the door.

The sun shone lazily over the mountaintops on a seemingly normal Friday morning. A tall, blonde boy with stormy blue eyes rode his bike to his high school.

Throughout the day, he looked to the clock, despite knowing that he had hours to go. 11:43. 12:31. 2:04. 3:12. At promptly 3:35, the bell rang, and Virgil dashed out the door and into the auditorium. Two more hours.

The next two hours were crammed with costuming, soundchecks, frenzied searches for props, and last-minute rehearsing. The atmosphere in the theater was electric- the result of months of work being poured into three nights of performance.

As the audience started to trickle in, Virgil's nerves rose. He had to do well. He had to. The show started, and he stepped onto the stage. The lights shone in his eyes. The audience stared at him. Here goes nothing.


	6. trees

The town was surrounded by forest, that was easy to see. The trees and landscape were ever-shifting, anyone who resided in Shadow Valley long enough knew that. Because of this, anyone with half a brain would keep away from the forest. Roman Hawthorn, however, did not.

Roman jumped down from the tree, pocketing the leaf he had climbed up the tree to get. It was quiet in the woods-- just how he liked it. The only sounds were the chatter of animals and the crunch of pine needles under his boots. He much preferred this, over the hustle and bustle of downtown or Remus shouting at their video game. 

“Oh!” Roman grinned, spotting a glint of gold in a bush. He dashed over and dug through it. A small golden pocket watch sat there, framed amongst pebbles, dirt, and leaves. It was clearly broken. Maybe he could ask Logan to fix it. He pocketed it.

Roman had a knack for finding things. He had a knack for adventuring in the forest too, never seeming to get lost and always being able to navigate it. So he spent a lot of time here, amongst the trees and simply being. Alone. Away. Adventure. He felt... free.


	7. static

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> introducing c!thomas + c!joan  
> based off an ask from creature-of-the-void on tumblr:  
> this certain someone running the radio show sounds intriguing— may we know more?

The static of the small camping radio crackled to life and the enigmatic voice of the radio host filled the clearing. Remus sat with their knees brought up to their chest and their back against the log that Virgil was laying across. Logan yelped as he nearly fell out of a tree, but steadied himself in due time. Roman followed him up the tree and sat next to him, slinging an arm around him and receiving a playful shove in response. Patton sat next to Remus, braiding their hair and listening closely as Janus slumbered on the other side of them.

“What is up everybody! Today, me and my lovely co-host will be giving you a stellar program! Joan, why don’t you tell us what it is?”

“But of course,” Joan responded, and you could hear the smile in their voice as they spoke. “Thomas, you know how life sucks?”

Thomas took a minute to think before responding. “No... Not really, no.”

Joan suppressed a giggle. “Oh. Well here’s a segment that will hopefully brighten your life, or at least make you giggle.”

Thomas grinned and cut over them. “Don’t touch that dial, it’s Reasons to Smile! After a short ad break.”

As the steady sound of the radio resumed, the teens started up a conversation, and the show was soon forgotten.


	8. its 4:48 pm and i cant focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> why do summaries

Janus rested his head on his desk, letting out a disgruntled sigh. The sun poured onto his workspace, illuminating it in a gentle golden glow and highlighting his dark curls and brown eyes. He looked down at his math homework, unable to start on it nor finish it. It hurt to think about, and he was mentally stuck. Music streamed through his one working earbud. He’d never gotten his earbuds fixed. It was too much effort, too tiring to talk to his parents unless completely necessary.   
  
Janus looked back at his laptop, a video open on his browser and still playing. He’d completely tuned it out, left without a clue on what he was watching other than that it was math. Well. Too late now. He’d finish it later. He shut the lid, standing up and pulling on a coat overtop his turtleneck sweater. He stepped out of his room, walking down the hall and descending down the stairs. Settling on the bench, he pulled on his boots and fixed his hair. “I’m going for a walk,” he called, before stepping out the door.   
  
The cold wind hit him in the face, a stark contrast to the warm sun from his room. Janus huddled in on himself, and broke into a brisk walk down the road. The sun shone through the trees, despite the thick cloud cover that always seemed to hang over the town. A few stray bird chirps could be heard every now and then, and the closer you got to downtown the more you heard the highway and chatter of teenagers gathering. The road was strewn about with reddish brown pine needles and leaves of every shade, as well as a few pinecones here and there. All in all, it was a lovely day.   
  
Janus pulled out his phone, opening up messages and giving a light chuckle at the 267 unread messages from his group chat. He tapped on the text box, typing out a quick message.   
  
_Janus Rowan: jesus christ, you guys talk a shit ton (not mean)_  
  
 _Logan Reed: jn!!! hi :]_  
  
 _Remus Hawthorn: Jay :U_  
  
 _Patton Pine: oh hey janus_  
  
 _Virgil Elder: Yo_  
  
 _Roman Hawthorn: Hello lark!_  
  
 _Janus Rowan: hi_  
 _Janus Rowan: do you want to meet up? i can’t focus_  
 _Janus Rowan: clearing, obviously_

_Patton Pine: yeah sure :) ill be there in 5_   
_Patton Pine: should i bring tea?_

Janus smiled a bit, knowing that was Patton’s way of asking if he was emotionally troubled.

_Janus Rowan: no, it’s alright. thank you though_

_Patton Pine: ok!_

_Logan Reed: yo im in da clearin_   
_[Logan Reed sent an image to rad motherfuckers]_

_Virgil Elder: Logan, you are literally some eldritch horror. How did you get there so fast?_

_Logan Reed: ;)_

_Remus Hawthorn: ro n i’ll be there in 10_

_Virgil Elder: I’ll be there in about half an hour._

_I have to finish a shift at work._

_Janus Rowan: alright, cool_   
_Janus Rowan: who’s bringing the smore supplies?_

_Patton Pine: got it!_   
_[Patton Pine sent an image to rad motherfuckers]_   
_Patton Pine: i’ve also got some cider :)_   
_Patton Pine: lo, will daph be joinin us?_

_Logan Reed: nah_   
_Logan Reed: shes writing a game for dnd or something_   
_Logan Reed: ive got her guitar though >:3 _   
_Logan Reed: so roman or virgil can play guitar_   
_Logan Reed: propr fuckin campfire :3_   
_Logan Reed: ive also got my cryptid journal n a book of horror stories, so we’re all set_   
_Logan Reed: wjekj 2h3kjwgwdhkjqe_

_Remus Hawthorn: LMAO r u ok bro?_

_Remus Hawthorn: lo?_

_Patton Pine: he’s fine, i just scared the living daylights outta him and he decked me_

_Logan Reed: fuckin deserved it_

_Patton Pine: fair :)_

_Remus Hawthorn: okay then_   
_Remus Hawthorn: ro n i are on our way, so ttyl_

_Janus Rowan: alright_

Janus pocketed his phone and hummed, looking around at the multicolored foliage lining the street and the kids running around, chasing one another. His heart ached, for a childhood he’d never gotten the opportunity to enjoy. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been that carefree. It seemed he’d simply grown up solemn. Janus recalled a word he’d read once- hireath. The nostalgia for a home that never was. It summed up how he felt pretty well, he thought.

He turned his eyes back towards the road and continued down the path, occasionally allowing his eyes to wander astray. As he approached the main road, he heard a light chatter from just left of the bike shop. A fond smile crept onto his face and he walked a bit faster, turning into the clearing and looking at his friends.

Logan spotted him first and ran over, tackling him. “JAY!”

“AAAA- Logan!!!!” Janus laughed, pushing him off. “Dude, be careful!”

“Careful is my middle name!”

“I thought you said it was Mothman. Or was it Bigfoot? Wait- no, was it Extraterrestrial?” Patton grinned at him.

Logan crossed his arms and huffed. “Shush.”

Remus laughed from the log they were sitting on. “Come on over, Jan, Lo-” they gestured for the two to sit down. Janus sat on the log next to them, and Logan hopped on the lower branch of a tree, where Roman was hanging upside down from.

“What homework were you working on?” Logan looked over at Janus.

“Oh, uh, just some math…” The conversation carried itself, and the atmosphere was rather amiable. After about half an hour, Virgil arrived and joined in the conversation. When it started to get dark, Virgil, Patton, and Roman stoked a fire, and cider was shared around. The conversation started winding down the later it got, and the kids huddled together under the stars.

“You think we’ll ever fully understand the universe?” Remus looked up, laying across Janus and Patton’s laps.

“I think so, if we don’t perish in a fiery inferno,” Logan mumbled, leaning on Patton and braiding Roman’s hair. “I’d like to find aliens before then, though.”

“What do you guys want to achieve when you’re older?” Janus idly played with Remus’ hair. “Like, careers? Success?”

“I think I want to get to broadway,” Virgil admitted. “It’d be nice to get to broadway.”

“I just want to be happy,” Patton hummed. “Maybe I’ll become a photographer, or a teacher.”

“Teaching sounds nice,” Remus agreed.

Roman sighed softly. “I’d like to write. I want to be able to inspire people… I wanna provide some kid the same thing I had.”

“I’m gonna go to space,” Logan stated. “I’m going to discover something no one else has.”

Janus nodded. “That sounds nice,” he mumbled, addressing them all. “I’m not sure what I want to do. My parents want me to become a lawyer or a businessman… but I dunno what I want.”

“That’s ok,” Patton murmured. “You’ll figure it out, eventually.”

The group settled into a comfortable silence, the only sound permeating the quiet being the slow strum of the guitar in Virgil’s hands and the crackle-pop of the fire. Janus looked around, mouth turning up into a smile. He was home. This was home.


End file.
